


A Harmless Game of Tag

by Squeaky



Series: Good Friends [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Shenanigans, Established Relationship, F/F, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I believe I was speaking,” Malcolm said archly. “By action,” he continued, “I mean that it’s time to play a game. A game of cunning and skill. A game suitable for--“ He hiccupped again, “Starfleet’s finest!”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Harmless Game of Tag

They had been drinking for hours. The bar on Risa was uncrowded, most of the other patrons having left earlier to go to bed. Now it was full dark and closer to morning than to night. The only light came from the cloth lanterns strung from the arbours overhead, creating intimate shadows over the four _Enterprise_ crew members as they sat on the patio, sharing secrets.

“So,” Hoshi said, leaning forward and lowering her voice conspiratorially, “How _did_ you lose your virginity, Trip?”

“Yes Commander,” Malcolm added, setting down his glass of Andorian ale and leaning back in his chair. “Do tell.” he smirked.

Trip eyed the other three warily, glass halfway to his mouth, “Why y’all wanna know somethin’ like that?” His accent had thickened with each pint he had consumed.

“It’s a way to know you better,” Liz said. “Come on,” she cajoled him, “you know you want to tell us.”

“Ain’t nothin’ much to it,” Trip hedged. He took a drink. 

“I bet it’s a sweet story,” Hoshi smiled. “Here, have some more beer.” She topped up his glass. 

“Y’all serious about this?” Trip took a drink and sat back contemplatively in his chair. “Well alright then,” he drawled. “It was my first year of school at the University of Texas. Our engineerin’ prof had wrangled us a school trip to see us some of the engineerin’ marvels of the 20th century.” He paused, pointing at Hoshi with the hand that held his glass. “Now, most people don’t realize how much innovation was actually done durin’ the 1900s,” he said. “For example, the computer was invented durin’ that time, as well as portable communication devices and--“

Malcolm cut him off. “You were going on a school trip?” he prompted.

“Oh yeah,” Trip replied. He furrowed his brow in concentration. “Right. School. Well, anyway, the prof had use of the shuttle bus for about two weeks, and we travelled all over North America lookin’ at stuff. And one of our stops was Toronto.”

“Toronto?” Liz interrupted, “is that in the U.S.?”

“No, hon,” Hoshi answered. “It’s a province in Canada, located around Lake Ontario.”

“Yeah,” Trip agreed. “But back in the 20th century, it was still just a city, part of the province of Ontario. Pretty sure it was the capital.” He paused again to take a sip. “Anyway, there we were in Toronto, lookin’ at the CN tower.” he smiled at the memory. “Believe it or not, but this tower used to be the tallest free standin’ structure in the world. A real engineerin’ marvel. It’s over 550 metres tall.”

“Really?” Liz said, amazed. “What was it for?”

“Is it pretty?” Hoshi asked, and then added sheepishly, “I’ve never been to Canada.”

“It was built as a communications tower,” Trip explained. “Around the middle of the 1970s, or somethin’. And supposedly before all radio signals went digital you could get some of the clearest radio reception in North America around there because of that tower.” He turned towards Hoshi, “And no. It ain’t beautiful. It’s kinda like a long, pointed stick with a donut on the top.”

“Your virginity, Commander?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at the other man.

Trip frowned briefly at the Lieutenant. “I was gettin’ to it. Anyway, there I was, camera in hand, snappin’ pictures at it from the ground--And let me tell you,” he interrupted himself, “even after all these years and all these higher buildins we got now, it’s still high enough to make you dizzy when you’re lookin’ up at it.”

“I’d love to see it,” Liz enthused. She turned to Hoshi. “Maybe next shore leave on Earth?”

Hoshi nodded. “Sounds like fun!”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “The story?” He took a drink.

“Okay, okay,” Trip groused. “So there I was, lookin’ up at it, when along comes Kitty Summers. Now the boys in the class used to say that Kitty shoulda been called ‘Puppy Winters’ instead of Kitty Summers, bein’ that she was such an icy bitch.” Trip’s eyes widened and he blushed. “Please excuse my French,” he muttered. 

“That wasn’t French,” Hoshi giggled. 

“It’s okay.” Liz patted his arm. “We’re Starfleet, remember? We’ve heard worse.”

“Well, she may have been cold,” Trip continued, “but she sure was beautiful. Long brown hair, big, uh...“ He paused, lowering his hands from where he had positioned them in front of his chest. “Eyes,” he finished lamely. 

Malcolm snickered. “And what colour were those eyes, Trip?”

Trip shot him a look. “Will you let me finish? Anyway, I was lookin’ up at the tower--“

“I think we have already well established that.” Malcolm rolled his eyes again, which caused him to list slightly to the left.

“Do you wanna tell this story?” Trip glared at Malcolm.

Liz reached over the table to smack Malcolm lightly on the shoulder. “Let the man speak!” 

“Go on, Trip,” Hoshi said encouragingly. “So, what happened then?”

“And Kitty walks right over to me, slaps me on the ass and says: ‘Wanna show me your free-standing structure?’ and, while I’m standin’ there gapin’ like some hick farm boy, she slips me her room key!” Trip shook his head at the memory. “I tell you, I nearly keeled over. Right on the spot.”

“So, what did you do?” Liz asked, “Did you go to her room?”

“I think we can surmise as much,” Malcolm said sardonically. “After all, it is the tale of how he lost his virginity.” He slurred the word ‘surmise.’

Hoshi poked him. “Cut it out, or your turn’s next.”

“God forbid,” Malcolm muttered. He took a drink.

“Well, Trip?” Liz asked again, “what happened next?”

Trip raised his glass to his mouth, “A gentleman never tells.” He put his empty glass back on the table and stood unsteadily. “’Scuse me,” he said as he put his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder to steady himself. “Gotta go see a man about a horse.” He left for the bathroom, weaving slightly. He turned around after a few steps. “I’ll be back,” he said, lowering his voice and trying to look menacing. The table laughed and, grinning, Trip continued his path to the lavatory. 

Hoshi sighed. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

Liz giggled. “Maybe he’s still a virgin!”

“I should think not.” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her. 

Liz turned to him. “I think it should be your turn next.”

“No,” Malcolm said definitively. “We’ve been sitting here too long. It’s time for some action!” he hiccupped. 

Liz and Hoshi eyed each other warily. “What do you mean by ‘action?” Hoshi asked. 

“The last time the boys were this drunk with us, they ended up sleeping together,” Liz whispered to Hoshi. She leaned in towards the other woman, nearly bumping her head on Hoshi’s shoulder. 

“So did we!” Hoshi whispered loudly back.

Liz kissed her on the cheek. “That was a good night.” The two women smiled deep into each other’s eyes. 

“I believe I was speaking,” Malcolm said archly. “By action,” he continued, “I mean that it’s time to play a game. A game of cunning and skill. A game suitable for--“ He hiccupped again, “Starfleet’s finest!”

Hoshi blanched, “You don’t mean another round of ‘British Bulldog', do you?”

“Certainly not.” Malcolm filled his glass from the pitcher. A large quantity of the ale ended up on the table. 

“Beer crime!” Liz laughed.

“Can’t have that!” Malcolm laughed with her. He picked up Hoshi’s red Pashima scarf to blot the liquid. 

“Hey!” Hoshi cried, grabbing back her shawl. “That’s mine.” She placed it over her bare shoulders, covering the thin straps of her red dress. “Use Trip’s jacket. He won’t mind.”

Malcolm eyed the brown suit jacket with the large collar Trip had hung casually over the back of his chair. “But then what will he use to cover up that atrocious orange shirt he’s wearing?”

“Ugh,” Liz stated. “Malcolm, as his boyfriend, can’t you do anything about his taste in clothes?”

“What’s wrong with my taste in clothes?” Trip said, coming up to the table.

“Ah, you’re back.” Malcolm beamed up at the other man. He stood, slightly more balanced than Trip had been, and then slapped Trip hard on the back. “Tag, you’re it!” he yelled and took off between the tables, vaulting over the low fence that separated the patio from the street.

“Ow! Hey! What?” Trip said, clearly confused. He watched Malcolm hop the fence. “Now where’s he goin’?” 

Liz and Hoshi were standing as well. “I think he’s started a game of tag with you, Commander,” Liz said. She giggled.

“Isn’t he too drunk to do that safely?” Hoshi bit her lip.

“I…Will go after him,” Trip said, placing his hand on his chest for emphasis. He swayed back slightly and righted himself. Before the women could protest he turned and loped towards the fence, clearing it surprisingly gracefully as Hoshi hid her eyes. “Ally ally oxenfree!” Trip cried as he took off in the direction that Malcolm had gone.

“Should we go after them?” Hoshi asked.

Liz looked down at her short black skirt and high heels. “I’m not exactly dressed for running,” she pointed at Hoshi’s red heels. “And neither are you, I’m afraid.” She looked up as a waiter approached their table. He looked relieved the group was finally leaving. “Plus,” Liz sighed, “it looks like we’ve been stuck with the bill.”

“Oh great,” Hoshi said sarcastically. She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I hope they take credits,” she muttered. The waiter handed them the bill and stood patiently by as they put a large amount of money on it. Hoshi indicated that he could take it, and the waiter finally left, smiling. 

“So, what should we do?” Liz asked. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Hoshi, “Go back to our room?”

Hoshi laughed, “I would love to, baby,” she said. “But unfortunately, I think we have to go find the boys and make sure they get home safely first.”

“Yeah,” Liz agreed glumly. She picked up Trip’s forgotten jacket and made a face. “Maybe I should just leave it behind.”

Hoshi smirked. “Malcolm would thank you, but Trip wouldn’t.” 

They walked over to the fence and left the patio by the small gate. “Have you ever noticed,” Liz said thoughtfully, “that you and I never seem to get as drunk as the boys when we drink Andorian Ale together?”

“Must be hormonal or something,” Hoshi said. 

“Another advantage to being a woman,” Liz laughed. She peered up and down the street, hands on hips, “Now if I were two crazy, horny and extremely drunk officers playing tag, which way would I go?” 

Hoshi snapped her fingers. “The pool.”

“Absolutely.” They turned towards the swimming area of the hotel complex, their heels making clicking noises against the pavement. “What if they’re not there?” Liz asked after a few moments of walking.

“They’ll be there,” Hoshi replied. “But if not...” she grinned. “Then perhaps you and I can figure out something to do in the pool while we’re waiting.” 

“Oh I hope they’re not there!” Liz exclaimed. They rounded the corner and came up to the fenced-in pool area. 

“I don’t hear any splashing,” Liz whispered. “Can you see anything?”

Hoshi craned her neck. “No, it’s too high,” she whispered back. She went up to the gate and pushed it experimentally. It swung open, the lock clearly broken. “That has Malcolm written all over it,” she muttered. Just at that moment they heard a cry of ‘Gotcha!’ and a shout of laughter.

“They’re here,” both women said in unison. 

“Damn,” Liz said. Quietly they crept through the gate. 

The pool was deep and full of shadows, the area lit only by a street lamp overhead. Trip and Malcolm were chasing each other around the edge of the pool. Trip was ahead of Malcolm, still laughing. His shirt and shoes were gone. Malcolm had taken off his suit jacket, and had an expression like a hunter intent on some prey.

“Give up now, Trip!” he shouted. “I promise I’ll be easy on you.”

Trip laughed and half-turned around to shout at Malcolm as he ran: “Slither-dee-dee has crawled out of the sea, y’may catch all the others, but you won’t catch me!” 

“Careful, Trip!” Liz called.

“What?” Trip said, turning his head towards the sound. His foot caught something and he wind-milled his arms for a second before he pitched sideways into the pool.

There was no splash. Just a thudding sound as Trip hit bottom.

“Trip!” Hoshi, Malcolm and Liz cried, each running to the edge of the pool to look in.

“Ow,” came Trip’s voice from somewhere in the darkness. 

“Trip!” Malcolm called again. “We can’t see you! It’s too dark. Are you hurt?” He was leaning as far as he could over the edge of the pool.

“Ow,” Trip repeated. “I think my ankle’s broken.”

“Can you bend it?” Liz asked. 

“Yes,” came the mournful reply from below. “Only slightly. It hurts.”

“It’s probably only sprained,” Liz answered soothingly. “Tell me if the pain gets worse.”

“Can you stand?” Malcolm asked. Hoshi heard a tiny note of panic in Malcolm’s voice. 

“I am standin’!” Trip retorted. “Can’t you guys see me at all? I can see you.”

“I think it’s too deep,” Malcolm answered. “Do you see a ladder anywhere around you?”

“No. I think they were all taken out when the water was drained or something.’” Trip’s voice echoed off the tiles, making him sound very far away. “Besides, it’s too damn dark down here. I can barely see my feet.”

Hoshi stood from where she was leaning over the edge of the pool. “Wait, I saw something that might help.” She went over to the edge of the fence and returned with a net on a long, flexible handle. “Think it’ll work?” She asked Malcolm. He stood as well.

“Won’t hurt to try,” he replied. His brow was furrowed with concern. Balancing it carefully, Hoshi and Malcolm lowered the handle into the black depths. “Trip, can you reach this?”

“Ow!” Trip cried. “Careful, willya?”

“Grab onto the end,” Hoshi yelled. “We’ll pull you out.”

“Ow!” Trip cried again. “You keep whackin’ me on the head!”

“Just take it, Trip,” Malcolm said, exasperation evident in his tone. 

“Ow! Jesus Christ!” Trip yelled. “Will you just put that thing away?”

Malcolm and Hoshi looked at each other. “I guess it isn’t working,” Hoshi said apologetically. They dropped it by the fence. She called to Liz, “Any ideas?”

Liz looked up from the other side of the pool, “Is your scarf long enough?”

Hoshi picked it up from where she had let it fall when they were working with the net and examined it. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t think it’s strong enough either.”

Malcolm was searching his side of the fence, “Do you see the ladders?” he called to Liz.

“No,” she called back. “But I haven’t looked everywhere yet,” she added hopefully. She leaned over the side of the pool. “Trip, how’s your ankle?”

“I can’t put a lot of weight on it,” he replied. There was a pause. “Am I trapped down here?” he said finally, his voice a little nervous. “It’s cold.”

“Here, Trip.” Hoshi dropped her scarf down to him. “You can drape that over your shoulders.”

“Thanks, Hosh.” There was a scuffling sound from the pool. “Damn!” Trip exclaimed. “I can’t find it! It’s too dark down here.”

“Can you see me at the edge?” Hoshi shouted. 

“Yes,” Trip responded.

“Try to my left.”

“Okay,” there was a small scuffling sound, then a loud clink of metal. “Ow! Damn!” Trip cried. “I think I broke my toe!”

“What’s down there?” Malcolm called, lying flat and leaning over the edge of the pool again.

“Just a sec…” More clinking. “Hey!” Trip sounded relieved, “I think I found the ladders. Here, I’m gonna try to raise it…”

Quickly, the edge of something silver flashed in the light from the street lamps over the rim of the pool. It cracked against Malcolm’s face. 

“Bloody hell!” Malcolm cried, reeling away from the edge of the pool, both hands pressed to his nose. Blood, looking black in the near-darkness, seeped through his fingers. 

“Oh no,” Liz cried. She ran over to Malcolm, pausing to pick up Trip’s discarded jacket. “Here,” she said, gently prying Malcolm’s fingers away from his face. “Press this up against it. It should help stop the bleeding.”

“I think it’s broken,” Malcolm muttered through the cloth. His voice sounded think and nasal. 

“What happened? What’s goin’ on up there?” Trip called. “Malcolm?”

Hoshi grabbed the end of the ladder. “Everything’s under control up here,” she yelled down to him. “I’ve got the top of the ladder. Can you climb up?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” Trip called back grimly. The ladder shook slightly under Hoshi’s hands as Trip half-hopped, half-climbed his way out, mumbling ‘ow’ with each step. When he reached the top, Hoshi helped him climb over the edge and he collapsed onto the ground. “Ow,” he said. He smiled up at Hoshi. “Thanks darlin’.”

She smiled back. “No problem.” 

He raised himself up on his elbows and saw Malcolm sitting a short distance away, Liz pressing something to his face. Trip stood up and limped over, sitting down again beside the other man. Extending his hurt leg in front of him, he turned to Malcolm. “What the hell happened to you?” 

“Your bloody ladder hit me in the bloody face.” Came the muffled reply. “My nose is broken.” 

“Oh gawd, Malcolm.” Trip was genuinely upset. “I’m so sorry.” He rubbed Malcolm’s back. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Let me get some of Phlox’ painkillers and then I’ll think of something,” Malcolm mumbled back. 

“Hey,” Trip said after a moment. “Is that my jacket?”

Hoshi thumbed off her communicator and walked over to the other three. “Well, I just called the ship. Travis says he’ll be down here in about 15 minutes to pick you boys up and take you to sick bay.” She frowned. “He’s not happy about being woken up for this.”

“If _he’s_ unhappy, wait’ll the Cap’n finds out,” Trip said sadly. 

“Serves you right for running around a pool,” Liz admonished. “Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”

“Of course I know it’s bloody dangerous!” Malcolm glared at her from above Trip’s jacket. “Do you think I’m daft?”

“And, isn’t this like the 5000th time you guys have been to sick bay, or something?” Hoshi laughed. 

“We shoulda stuck with the virginity stories,” Trip sighed.

“It was just a harmless game of tag,” Malcolm moaned. 

“Well, at least it’s a beautiful night,” Liz said, looking up at the panoply of stars above them.

“By the way, you owe me and Liz for the drinks.” Hoshi poked Trip in the arm. “And for a new scarf.”

“Ow,” he muttered. They lapsed into silence, waiting for the shuttle.

 

END


End file.
